He was my commanding officer, but he had become my best friend. He had become …
“Sullivan?” Ang said.
I looked at him, at my fork half raised to my open mouth. I closed my mouth and put the fork down.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Not wrong, no.” I shook my head. “I am just stupid and only now am I seeing the truth of things.”
Ang nearly frowned, but it was the lack of such expression that had left his skin so unlined. “What truth would that be?”
“That somewhere along the line you became Fin’s second parent.”
Ang’s gaze fell to the table. “I never sought to take anything away from you.”
It was automatic for me to reach out and cover his hand with mine. “No, I know that.” The back of his hand was smooth and invited the way my thumb moved over it. “I know I was something of an arsehole to you. Many times.”
“You sought only o protect your son.”
“True, but now I wonder if you weren’t right and that I was protecting him too much. You gave him the things I couldn’t, the training, the recognition of growth.”
“I gave him what I thought he needed. A second ear. Someone he could talk to when he couldn’t talk to you. Not,” he rushed to assure me, “because hecouldn’ttalk to you, but there are times when we all need discussions outside of our own small family unit.”
“Well at least I got to have that right of passage for all fathers and the excruciating discussion of puberty and sex.”
Ang laughed at that. “Yes. And apologies, but Fin told me of it. He found it every bit as difficult. Apparently, sharing memories of his mother were not the way to go.”
“What would you have said?”
“I do not know, I never had to have that discussion.”
“He didn’t ask you about it then?” That was a relief.
“Of course he did,” Ang pulled that rug from beneath my feet. “He had many questions. But I was honest with him that I couldn’t tell him anything as I have never lain with a woman. It just wasn’t my nature. Something I recognised at a very young age.”
I patted his hand. “Thank you.” Then I pulled away and took another bite of my dinner. As a younger man, I had found both men and women attractive. Having spent my life in male-dominated households, having attended a boys-only school, of course I had tales of kissing other boys, and more, but the truth of it was that I had always been attracted to women as well. Mostly Sasha.
“Did he ask you about men being with men?” I couldn’t look at Ang as I asked the question.
“Yes, he did.”
I swallowed. “And?”
“And I told him that we fall in love with a person. Yes, the way they look will be the first attraction, but it is the person, the way they think, the way they act, that is what we fall in love with. And that is not necessarily dependent on gender. I told him that the most important thing to remember was to fall in love before falling into bed with anyone.”
“Good advice.”
“Sully?” His soft call brought my head up to him. “Whatever Fin chooses to do with his love and with his life, I know you will always love him for being the man he is. And so will I.”
I nodded again. Only I wasn’t sure I was talking about Fin any more. I remembered a conversation a long time ago with Fenwick. He asked me to describe my perfect partner. I had described Sasha. Only what I had said also described Ang. I was a fool indeed not to have acknowledged it sooner.
After dinner, we sat together talking. And there were many more evenings that we spent that way. We talked, we played cards, we drank and ate and laughed together. Yes, laughed. It was a surprise to me that Ang could laugh. When he did those incredible eyes sparkled as if the lightning was in them. And something inside me melted.
Some nights we were quiet and sat reading together, swapping newssheets when we were finished. Some nights I worked on leather craft, or mending. Some nights he brought paperwork with him to complete. It was companionable, gentle. More welcome than ever I had expected. More like home.
* * *
I ate in the dining room. Well, picked. I had no appetite without Ang. I had to eat there, it was my turn to cook again. Ang did not join us. I heard from Gahunia that he was in his office, bogged down in paperwork for the quarterly reports. I knew he had a lot to do, we’d worked on some of that together the previous night. The other flight sergeants had made their reports as well. It all had to be collated and rationalised, summarised. As a result, I didn’t expect to see Ang that evening. Though he did usually visit for dinner three times a week, usually including the fourth day because of his schedule. Or sometimes, if he was busy, he come over after dinner.
